


Loki: Agent of Doomgard Drabble

by Little_BookwormDKM, TheWriterValkyrie



Category: Journey into Mystery, Loki: Agent of Asgard
Genre: Drabble Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-05-09 12:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_BookwormDKM/pseuds/Little_BookwormDKM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterValkyrie/pseuds/TheWriterValkyrie
Summary: I really adore Sand3's work Loki Agent of Doomgard, and I had a couple writing ideas after reading her fic.Love ya, Fam!Chapter 1: Verity and Serrure: Magic Gone AwryChapter 2: Storyteller and Ikol: Finding HomeChapter 3: Ikol and Serrure: A Lesson in Magic and Self-ExpressionChapter 4: Loki Sleeping Pile (short)Chapter 5: Collaboration chapter





	1. The war of the cutlery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sand3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand3/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Loki: Agent of Doomgard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259934) by [Sand3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand3/pseuds/Sand3). 



> This will be an amalgamation of plot ideas running through my head, some being alternate ways certain events could have gone, off screen scenarios in the back ground, future event ideas. That being said, it is very possible I will explore darker themes, and thus I will add warnings as they come, but I promise I will not do anything explicit in this series.

In hindsight, Verity had to admit that in her later years in life, she had developed a kind of … immunity to a large variety of the strange, insane, crazy and any other fitting synonyms that can come to mind. Whether it be having the ability to see through any form of a lie due to swallowing a magic ring. One that dear old dad just had to leave lying around a toddler of all people. Befriending the Norse God of Mischief and Lies (oh the delightful irony). Meeting said friend’s older, evil self, and helping the friend escape their fate through suicide. Getting to experience the entire universe getting destroyed, only to then be trapped on a doom forsaken planet that caused no end of headaches for her on a daily basis from just trying to comprehend the whole of it.

Honestly, it is rather a wonder how she had managed to keep any form of sanity as of late. Though, she did had to admit she did have some good days with her in her current state of life. Her job that paid well and thankfully allowed her to do it from home, her mom made it out alive in the apocalypse, and she was able to see her best friend and their little-uncle/analogue/ward with the help of the magic door that they had oh so lovingly plopped onto her back wall.

Things had even turned up with Loki finally finding her creator after at least a year’s long search, he didn’t necessarily stay around too often, 3 Lokis in one area for too long could likely attract Doom’s attention, but it meant that the kid could stay in New England and not have to be shuffled around too much with someone being able to a) keep an eye on him and b) having enough magic to protect him from the more evil ones.

She had to admit, however, her agreeing to that door maybe wasn’t the best idea at the moment. Sure, most people would probably love to have a magic door that led to a house in the midst of a magic fairy kingdom, with a fairy queen, witch hunters, and sorcerers, a scene that would probably be the wet dream of Narnia fans. But, when said book brought the person in question quite a bit of misery back in grade school, and there was the fact she was was currently fighting off a small army of kitchenware, the charm had become utterly lost.

“Ok, run this by me-AH!” Verity yelled as she dodged the litany of forks coming at her. She used one of the non-enchanted colonders as a helmet as well as a storybook that she found lying on the table as a sort of bat. Behind her, Serrure was flipping through the pages of his spellbook, desperately looking for the counterspell.

“Run this by me again, how in the hell - wait, scratch that, WHY the hell, did you do this!” She shouted at him angrily, while putting up a rather impressive fight against their silvery opponents

“Weeell, once upon a-”

“Cut the storytelling bullshit and get to the point!” she interrupted while swatting away a pot aimed at her head.

“Fine! you see Storyteller and I were watching Beauty and the Beast yesterday, and I... may have found the dancing cutlery idea rather intriguing trick to show her.”

Ah yes, the little Lokis’ movie night. Verity had sat through a couple of the movies herself every now and then, usually to just have a casual conversation with Ikol, while the two little nerds would cuddle on the couch eating popcorn, enraptured in the animation and fairy tales. This wasn’t even the first time Serrure had tried imitating something from a Disney movie from what she heard, such as the time that Serrure had attempted to enchant a rug to fly around, only for it to begin wrapping people up in it, leading to a very interesting chase for Ikol in his babysitting job. At the time she had found the whole ordeal quite funny what with having the image of the skinny dweeb chasing after a child burrito across fairy infested wood permanently embedded into her brain, but now that it was her having to deal with it...

Why did she ever think that this would be a good idea, ‘yeah, i’ll wait here with Serrure for a couple hours while you and Ikol go grab something to eat, I can just read while he plays cards, I’ll be fine.’ She didn’t know who to be more mad at, herself for doing this, Loki for leaving, or Serrure for deciding to practice his stupid magic when Storyteller wasn’t here. If she was being honest with herself, she should have probably expected this by now, considering the fact that the kid was literally _godling_ of fucking mischief, so one would assume she could expect some trouble. But the thing is, she never really saw him get into that much trouble. Yeah, she came over to hang out with Loki and Ikol, but the kid was usually just putting puzzles together, or reading a book, or out playing with some of the fairy kids, the kid was background noise most of the time, when she was around at least. If that were the case currently, the night could’ve gone off without a hitch, but noooo, this just HAD to be the time, his Loki-ness had to pop up!

Verity beat a small armada of forks away with a frying pan, trying to inch her way over to a nearby closet. She had thought of possibly going back to her apartment, but the idea of these things breaking into her room, didn’t seem like the best plan currently.

“Sooo, did you ever do stuff like this with Ikol?” the kid said nervously, quickly flicking through the pages.

“Arrgh, are you kidding me right now, Not. the. Time!” Verity yelled in frustration.

“Simply attempting small talk at the moment, though this will definitely be a wonderful story to tell later, I would just like a point of comparison” he stated matter of factly. As he closely followed behind her to the closet, at that precise second, a knife came barreling through the air and hit the book, making it fly across from the room and - out the goddamn window.

Well, shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The general idea that I have for this is to explore parts of the fic I found especially fascinating, and just some cute and funny scenarios I have in my head. A couple that I know I'm planning on writing are 
> 
> Serrure developing shapeshifting abilites and being able to change gender the same way as Storyteller and Ikol
> 
> A character study on either Nutopia loki or metro loki


	2. Maybe I’m not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Song(cover version)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UBNoBBlod9I)

**_It all became so lovely_**

**_Those Bluest skies above me_ **

**_Those funny feelings I had never felt before I met you_ **

A quiet cave was settled in an equally quiet forest. Tall trees so high they practically scraped the edge of the sky, and branches so densely packed together, one would most likely find themselves struggling to make it through the area from the lack of navigation and difficultly lain terrain. Mist curled around these trees from their roots to their branches, beautiful soft tendrils embracing them in elegant, mysterious swirls. At the very center of these trees lied a small mountain, was where this small little cave resided, tucked away to hide a very strange individual.

A young man, one just on the cusp of adulthood sat in this cave, garbed in what many would consider incredibly strange clothes, bright greens mixed with gold and brown, with a golden diadem with horns sitting upon his pale brow, holding back ink-black hair. Hair that would have been falling into his unthinkably bright green eyes by the way he tilted his head over a glowing orb of light floating above his outstretched hands. The orb had flashes of people in them. A little boy of a similar appearance, a young woman with vibrant red hair, and another with her hair a curled black. They seemed to be flashes of them talking, of playing, of general merriment. The young man stared at them with an expression of longing, of guilt, of regret. His gaze so utterly transfixed, one would not wonder why he would show no reaction to the strange woman who had entered

"Hi Ikol" the woman spoke in an uneasy tone.

**_I thought I’d stay a while_ **

**_I tried to learn to smile_ **

**_So many colors I had never even known_ **

 When Storyteller had first brought him back, after a lot of convincing, trepidation, and nerves that quite frankly made him want to jump into the void and hide again. Yet, against everything in his head telling him not to... he did (then again, he's always had that particular skill). He remembers the quick rate his heart was beating at as he stepped through that front door into Teller's house and saw Verity and Serrure sitting around a coffee table in the living room.

**_Maybe I’ll find myself standing on that distant shore_ **

**_Maybe I’m not alone_ **

It took a bit of time, but eventually, he came to like being around them. His talks and banter with Verity, going with Storyteller on their missions, taking care of Serrure, even. There was fun, laughter, mischief. It felt great, like when he was with the young avengers, or Thor, or Verity....

**_Then I see the colors fading_ **

He looks down and he sees the blood on his hands, can feel the blood drip down his mouth with the salty taste of blood and the crunch of bones between his teeth. Terror engulfing his entire form as a rush of emotions overcomes him, ones he had never previously experienced.

He couldn't handle it anymore, couldn't handle the paranoia in his brain pounding into his skull every time he looked as Serrure, at...at Verity. 

_'Don't get close to them.'_

_'You'll only fuck it up, you **know**  you will.'_

_'Who do you think you're fooling?'_

_'Great, another chance to **ruin** them all over again'_

The voices in his head rang like this constantly, sometimes almost  _screaming_  these things at him, forcing him to see the truth in his own mind

An image of Storyteller, Verity, and Serrure together showed up in his mind, an image that he did NOT fit in. Sure he was a Loki, but  they were better than him, they DESERVED to exist, while he was just a mistake, a flib in someone else’s plan.

So he did what he did best... he ran.

**_Gentleness in light escaping_ **

**_Shadows of my fear invading_ **

**_Have I seen this all before?_ **

"Ikol, if this is about the the magpie thing, Serrure has already forgiven you, he knows that you never meant to hu-" She said staring at him

"OH my gods, STOP MAKING EXCUSES FOR ME! Stop living in this little fantasy world of yours where I didn't make the choices that I did!"

"But-"

"You know what I can do, you know that I have hurt other people before, even if I didn't mean it or plan it. So just. stop. making. excuses for me!" All of this was true and he knew it. Thor, the Young Avengers, Verity, he hurt every single one of them. He was a poisonous person, and always would be, no matter how hard he tried. Sure things start out well  _at first_ , but soon the lies, the deception, the betrayals eventually came up, and if not that, the skeletons in his closet would soon rise to the surface, exposing who he truly was. Liar. Manipulator. Child Murderer. Impostor.

"I'm not trying to make excuses, you think I don't know your faults, you think I can't acknowledge that you have major issues?! Because I can, I'm a storyteller, I am the GOD of stories, that's kind of my job. You made me, because you wanted to fix what you thought was wrong with yourself, but that's not fixing yourself, that's making someone new to run away! You made me and then you just left me and verity and everyone else to clean up your mess like _he_ did!” She shouted angrily in frustration. She had tears spilling down her cheeks as the litany of emotions that had been running through her came pouring out.

"And also, do you really think this stupid self-pitying crap is doing anything. Stop using the idea you're a lost cause, as an excuse for you to just stop trying!"

**_I know there's something residing_ **

**_A terror deep inside me_ **

**_I couldn’t understand how you could be so bold_ **

 "Last time I checked, running from things never really ended to well for us, or solved our problems," she stated in a low, shaky voice, "Ikol, I'm not going to act as though I'm some kind of expert on relationships, because I'm not, not in the slightest. But-"

"Let me guess, you've learned a few things, some important life lessons you'll oh so lovingly share so that I will realize the errors of my ways and go back with you," he sarcastically stated.

"...have you been hanging around Cinema Mirabile by chance?" Teller asked curiously.

"No, why?" he said staring at her curiously with a raised eyebrow.

"...No reason. * _Sigh_ ,* yes something along the lines of what you described, but you need to understand just one thing, _please_. Trying to ignore your problems, it will do nothing for you, except let it fester and eat at you," Teller attempted to explain to him.

"..." he said nothing after a long stretch of silence.

 "And you know this, you are aware of this deep down, because otherwise  **I** wouldn't be able to see it. I understand, Ikol. You're scared, you're afraid that everything is gonna go sideways again, and yes that has happened in the past, but do you honestly think that running away and not dealing with it will do anything? Hiding yourself from people will make you better? And I'm not just talking out of my ass, nor am I speaking from just yours or the others memories, I-I've experienced this too in my life so far."

He side-eyed her curiously, intrigued by what she wished to impart to him, but yet still skeptical of what she thought could make him come back.

"Wh-when I was still looking for you and Serrure, I was-gods I was just a wreck. I was terrified that the two of you hadn't made it, that you were gone like _everything_ else..." Storyteller looked down at her hands as she remembered those paranoid nights and fruitless searches,"I didn't want anyone to suspect everything, so I just pushed it all down, then when I finally found some reprieve, somewhere I could just...forget... all of those problems, I didn't want to leave, and when I left, I just wanted to go back.”

"...One story about you messing up, isn't the same thin-“ Ikol tried to argue.

"Heh, I should have known, we are such stubborn creatures after all.” She stated smirking sadly to herself as her head leaned back on the rough wall behind her.” Verity misses you, you know, she always did. Even when she thought I was you, I could tell she could see the difference. She missed her old friend.”

”she-she cares about you too, though” he said weakly, turning his head away.

”I know, I love Verity. She is a part of my family now.” Storyteller looked over to him, and stood up to go kneel down in front of where he was sitting, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking deeply into his eyes.

_" **Maybe I’ll find myself smiling on that distant shore**_

**_Maybe I’m not alone_ **

” _You’re_ a part of my family, Ikol.” Storyteller suddenly wrapped her arms around him, pulling him onto his shoulder. Trying to communicate everything she wanted and had tried to say into this single action.

Ikol held onto Storyteller tightly in their embrace, clutching her as tightly as he could. He rested his chin on her shoulder likewise, feeling her body shaking against his.

”I love you, dad,” she whispered to him, voice cracking through her tears.

He was a messed up person, that was a fact, but sometimes it was worth at least trying...for your family.

The image of them in his head, he could now see that there was a place for him in it. Maybe he wasn’t so alone.

 "I-I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song Distant Shore from Steven Universe
> 
> Also, if any of you are interested, I have a folder of fanart for AoD  
> [Click](https://little-bookwormdkm.deviantart.com/gallery/66446922/Loki-Agent-of-Doomgard-fanart%22)
> 
> Comments and Criticism are always welcome!


	3. A Change in Shape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magical puberty sucks, but at least two semi-mature (HA) gods can help out their little godling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being much longer than I intended

Golden light filtered through the bright green leaves in the the Faerie woods of New England, a light that seemed to have no source, but simply existed in of itself. The sound of the clear, blue streams nearby mixed with the light twittering of birds overhead. Beautiful flora littered the trees and ground, mushrooms of enormous size, and flowers of such vibrancy they could almost draw you into a trance with their beauty.

And among all of this strange, ethereal beauty, was a young boy walking among the tall, untamed grass and sweet-smelling flowers. The boy seemed strangely normal looking among this forest, aside from how he seemed unusually short for his supposed age of 12 or 13. Slightly curled black hair framed a very pale face, still round with baby fat. Among these normal features were a pair of obscenely green eyes, unnatural in their brightness and intensity. Eyes that were currently filled in confusion and curiosity.

Serrure had been spending a lot of time walking lately, of course that was normal for him as both a rather energetic child and a trickster to boot, but lately he felt a sort of...restlessness about him. It was feelings of swirling, writhing chaos inside of him, like those times where he had felt trapped in a quiet room; an uncomfortable, unnatural stillness. His fingers itching to disrupt this quiet and calm masking the torrents inside of him. This had unfortunately translated into his magic and had gotten maybe a bit out of hand lately, especially an incident concerning America's hair and some fire at Lady Veldis's house, a mistake that was thankfully fixed by storyteller. Perhaps a bit too late considering the black eye and bruised arm he had received. Ikol had probably spent the most time as the receiving end of his increased mischief, as he was A) someone he didn't particularly respect B) far less likely to seek retribution. What he had underestimated, however was Ikol's attachment to his hair, this instance ultimately being a fair (in his opinion) secret haircut and dying as Ikol slept. Thank doom, teller had been there before Ikol could strangle him (metaphorically speaking).

Storyteller had asked him repeatedly if something was wrong, they had tried to get him to explain the moodiness he was presenting. It's not that he didn't want to, or didn't trust them, but he didn't...know how to explain it too them. These feelings were just so bizarre and unsettling. 

Serrure passed by the brook he normally played in and looked down at his reflection. His face just didn't seem right, but this made no sense, he never hated how he looked before, and he doesn't even think he's unattractive now, he was adorable after all. But something just seemed...off, like he was wearing clothes that weren't his. Clothes that might have looked nice on someone else, but not necessarily him.

 

Serrure walked back into the house at the center of the forest, hands in his pocket, lightly kicking at the dirt and tufts of grass in the circle around the area. As he climbed up the steps of the porch, he saw that Ikol was in the house, still in her female form and wearing a pretty green dress, causing the strange emotions he felt rise up again. Looking at her long glossy locks and sleek, elegant figure, he felt jealousy course through him. 'But-but at what!? Why would he want to look like Ikol now, they already looked the same, but he wanted to have her long hair, for his chin to not be as pointy, for the few hard lines in his face to soften like hers was at the moment.

  **...**

"Hey kid," Ikol said casually as Serrure passed by the table she was painting her nails at. Serrure glared at the hello, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Oh i'm sorry Sir moody, I meant 'Fuck you'. There, that better?" she stated sarcastically. The kid had been a real pain lately, especially after what happened to her hair, doom she had been ready to ki- _punish_ him after that. She could deal with the paint in the toothpaste, the mud in her shoes, the food explosion, and even frogs in her bed, but do not. mess with. her hair.

Ugh, after that hair fiasco, Verity had absolutely been howling with laughter at her chopped pink hair making her look like a yamblr reject. Storyteller saw it and then took pictures and sent them to _everyone_. This had started an entire prank war between the three of them (okay 2 and 1), that only ended after Verity had practically took them by the ear and told them to stop, when the pranks had began to affect _her_ , rather than a third party she could laugh at.

The kid went to go sit on the couch to read the book Teller had assigned to him this week (How to Control Your Powers: Jr. Edition, go figure). While waiting for her nails to dry, she began to notice the quick looks in her direction out of the corner of her eye. Attention focused particularly on her hair and face. She could recognize that look quite well, he was jealous. Years of analyzing the emotions of others to fall in line with her schemes had shown her how to twist the arms of a few, how to find the best way to motivate their cooperation. She had attempted to mostly use this on villains in her warped attempts at heroism, but of course many had ended up on the bad end of these tactics. For now, at least, she could use these skills to wheedle some information out of the little shit. Hm, well the kid did seem to be jealous of her hair, now seemed as good a time as any to play hairstylist.

"Hey Ru, would you mind coming over here for a second?" Ikol asked casually, lightly blowing on her black nails.

"Umm, whyyy?" he questioned, obviously very suspicious. 

"Because I want to try this new braiding style I found, and my arms get too tired doing it to myself ," 

"Okay, 1) why don't you just use your magic? and 2) If this is some kind of plan to get revenge on me for the hair prank, I would like to remind you of some rather interesting photos from a few ni-"

"Twenty bucks and a milkshake,"

"Twenty bucks,  _two_  milkshakes,  _and_ bacon _._ "

"Fine, now get over ya little hustler," fuck, the kid was gonna be on such a sugar high! Well, she could just leave him with Verity when it happened, she could handle that right? Well, she could cross that bridge when she came to it.

"So, how exactly are you gonna braid my hair, it's pretty short right now," Serrrue motioned to his wavy mop of hair as he sat down on a small ottoman in front of Ikol. Ikol meanwhile had summoned what seemed like far too many hair products for a braid. 

"Magic, duh, have you seriously not been paying attention the last few years or something?" Ikol snarked at his naivety, only to then whisper a spell that had his bob growing into thick black locks that went down his mid-back. 

  **...**

Serrure tensed slightly at the feeling of the newly lengthened hair. Unused to the greater weight on his head and hair tickling the back of his neck and sides of his face. In spite of it all, it felt strangely...nice. Ikol's fingers started carding through his hair, smoothing out the first few tangles before a brush took its place. As the bristles wound their way through the long inky hair, they would brush against his scalp. Over the next couple of minutes he finally began to relax, leaning against  Ikol's long legs. 

"Well, I think I have to admit this is a pretty good look for you"

"Is this a way of complementing yourself?"

"Learn to take a fucking compliment."

"Learn to not be an egotist!"

"Do you seriously want to start this while I have your hair in my hands?"

The two of them had entered an awkward silence while Ikol had continued the prep work for the braid.

"Soo, uh, how have you been doing late?"

"Fine I suppose, it-it's been pretty fun hanging with the gang again. Billy and Teddy's wedding plans are going well, and from what I heard with what happened to you, America's punches seem to getting back to what they used to be.

"Oh gods, don't remind me! If Nico hadn't been there she would have pummeled me into the center of Battle World!"

"Trust me I can sympathize, you should have seen her the time I met her at that Korean barbecue. To say the least it did not end well for me," Ikol finished splitting up the hair sections having them float in the air making the his head look like a giant squid monster was sprouting out of his head, "Actually, I was wondering about that, what has been up with you lately, you're usually so excitable and happy-go-lucky and shit, now your just acting like, well, basically me. You do NOT want to be me, Ru."

"..."

"Look, if you don't want to talk about it, I understand-"

"What does it feel like to shapeshift?" 

"...huh?"

"What does it feel like to shapeshift, or, well, how did it feel the first time?"

"Umm, well, shapeshifting for _me_... it was kind of like an outlet, an... expression of sorts. It was like whatever I felt become physical in a sense, it was freeing. I can only turn into things that are me, so in a way I made a new extension of myself. 

"And what did it feel like before you were able to shapeshift?"

"It kind of feels... restrictive, like you're clothes a couple sizes too smaIl. I don't quite know how to explain it. Itmight be because our forms are so fluid, or maybe just an extension of our chaos magic. Or maybe just that we've never been the best of sticking to one side," Ikol explained as he made the separate braids in his hair, about to intertwine them into one. A long silence had emerged after this little aside, becoming rather tense and awkward for both of them

"When Storyteller first brought me home, I had only really seen them in their female form, and the Lokis that had attacked me in Avalon were all male. So, the first time I saw him in his male form, I got a little scared. He had tried to explain it to me in that he has to balance himself, embody both aspects of who he is,” Serrure paused after this, contemplating how to come out about this, “Lately, I’ve just kind of felt uncomfortable and trapped the way I think you did before you could change your shape. I didnt understand what it was, because I only really had Storyteller to go off of, and it didn’t match what I was feeling,”

”So, uh, Ikol, do you think you could show me how?” Serrure asked nervously, fidgeting witch his hands.

“Sure, though I think we’re already on the right track, Ru” Ikol smiled as she made a mirror appear in front of Serrure’s face. 

Serrure was mesmerized at what he saw. the two braid on the side of his head and the one the went down the center of his head were expertly woven into the back, with the rest of the black waves were left loose. It was very well done, and it made him look very...feminine. And at the moment, he felt almost...right.

"Do you think we could start now?" Serrure turned around, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

"Sure thing kid."

...

The two of them turned their heads sharply as they heard the quick scramble up the front steps of the house. The door swung open to see Storyteller, slightly out of breath and covered in a mixture of soot, paint, and...cake?

"You two, will NOT believe the day I just had, this one little bastard- what have I walked in on?” He looked at the two young tricksters that normally would be quarreling, now standing in front of the door. The youngest having his hood drawn over his eyes and leaning his head down

”Actually little Ru here would like to share something with you,”

”What is it you want to tell me, sweetie?” he looked over at her, seeing the slightly nervous expression on her face. 

“Um, well, I just wanted to show you you, well, this,” Serrure pulled the hood down to reveal himse- _herself._ The young girl had Serrure's bright green eyes and pale skin, her chin was less pointed, he cheek bones softer, and her lips were fuller. Serrure had  _shapeshifted, he was now a girl._

Teller’s eyes lit up as he covered his mouth in excitement. His whole form became engulfed in glee as he ran over to pick Serrure up to spin her around. Serrure laughed lightheartedly at the show of joy, encircling her thin arms around his neck and not caring about the substances now sticking to her clothes. 

"Oh my gosh, how long have you been feeling this way?! When did this start? Is this why you've been acting so-! Oh gods, sweetie I am so sorry I haven't been able to help with this," expressions of guilt and regret over how busy he had been the last few weeks had led him to not being able to help her, showed clear as day on his face.

"It's okay, I'm fine! This all started a few weeks ago, and I was kind of confused and uncomfortable, but I feel much better now. Ikol gave me some lessons today. I haven't gone much farther than changes to my face, but I'm sure once my magic improves, I can go further with it," she explained to him. He looked over at Ikol, seeing her rubbing the back of her neck and standing rather awkwardly as he smiled at her.

"It was no big deal, and besides, at least now I'm not going to have my hair suffer any more attacks from the little brat," Ikol said.

"I'm still gonna prank you to kingdom come, Ikol" Serrure remarked from her place in Teller's arms.

"Yes, and I will look forward to the ensuing battle, little sister," she said doing a mocking impression of Thor using her hairbrush in place of a hammer and pointing it at the younger girl, an action that resulted in making Serrure chuckle at the performance.

"Also, since you helped her with the shapeshifting, I believe it's my right to give her some clothing tips based on my superior fashion sense,"

"Superior? Oh yeah, who doesn't want to look like they robbed a Hot Topic?" Ikol quipped. Crossing her arms and tilting her head slightly.

"How _dare_ you! I have never felt a betrayal such as this!" Teller gasped dramatically, even holding his hand to his head for full effect.

"Anyways, do you know what this means?" she asked, leaning against the table.

"What?"

"You see, I was talking with Billy and Teddy, and they've actually been looking for a flower girl..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I thought that Ru, would be a cute nickname for Serrure to have, as Ikol isn't the type to give nicknames like lamb or sweetling, unless he is being sarcastic and teasing.  
> *The young avengers ages are a bit mixed up due to the scrambled time lines  
> *the cake comment was a reference to one of the Loki ideas from AoD  
> *Yes, Ru cutting and coloring Ikol's hair is an allusion to what happened to Sif (Ru thankfully can rely on his guilt complex, though)


	4. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs cuddles, even moody magpie teens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick chapter today before I part with my computer for 4 days  
> This is just fluff, this entire fic is just becoming a huge fluff fest.  
> Dear god I am such a basic-ass fangirl

Comfort

It was a thing that was not often afforded to them in their lives, sometimes if ever. Whether it be the Old's painful childhood that had fostered the bitterness and cruelty that had pushed others away. Serrure in his world of isolation and hatred from the homeland their creator had abused himself, a father wanting nothing to do with him and a mother who used him as a tool. Ikol, one who had pushed others away in fear of his nature and at the same time had in turned against him by the same mother and himself. Comfort came in the form of friendships that became painfully short and a brother who had two much on his plate to see to the child he had taken in (and secretly lost).

Comfort was something they had trouble handling, like a small child being handed a beautiful glass toy. It was precious and beautiful, but far too easily broken and the shards would eventually only cut into them later on. So, best to build stone walls and grow thorns to keep it all away, keep everyone away and laugh to show everyone that nothing mattered, they didn't _care_.

Though their youngest had been able to accept the comfort, care, and love of his caretaker, Ikol still struggled with the concept. He had burned people too many times and had been burned back as well.

And yet there were nights that not even the strongest souls could endure, nights where hopelessness and guilt and regret clawed at his mind like a ravenous animal. Eating away at his conscious to remind him of how he  _failed,_ how he  _hurt,_ how he  _ran like a coward_ in the past. But he couldn't run, not this time. He had people who wanted him around, wanted to help him grow in ways he didn't think he was capable, even if the process was painful. At these times he would give into, well a sort of- _childish-_ instinct and join his twin.

And he knew he was there. He had been for a while. Memories of fire, blood, magpies, and more had slowly crept back into Ru's mind, images of horrors no child should have endured. Nightmares that had kept him awake with no hope of being able to forget them again. This had sent him into the safe reprieve of Storyteller's bed, warm arms wrapped around him and holding him tight in security; shushing the quiet whimpers of a nightmare taking its toll, and whispering spells to keep them further at bay

He was too old for that kind of thing, almost an adult himself and memories that spanned thousands of years, along with his overall discomfort with excessive physical touch. He preferred just a single hand wrapped around theirs as he laid on top of the covers, no more no less. A single anchor to hold him down when he felt so low already. Much like how an otter would hold on to kelp, so they could no longer drift and be pulled in by the unrelenting current.

At the moment, Ikol was standing in front of Storyteller's door, slowly inching it open so it wouldn't creak so we could quietly slip into the room. He heard Teller's and Ru's soft breathing as they were curled up together on the bed. Serrure was cuddled up to her side as an arm was wrapped around him, holding him close, her nose pressed into his mop of fluffy hair. Moonlight illuminated them from the window, giving them a strangely pure appearance. Quite the irony among tricksters such as them. But then again, even the most horrible of monsters looked humane once they went to sleep exhibiting a sense of serenity and vulnerability often foreign to themselves.

He walked over to the side of the bed, slowly sitting down and resting his head on one of the pillows laid at the farthest end of the bed. One placed there just for him once Teller had noticed the habit. He curled in on himself and reached his hand over, grasping the hand that rested lazily by it's owner. A soft grunt came from Storyteller as she was partially woken up, but as soon as she realized who was holding her hand she squeezed the hand gently and went back to sleep.

"Goodnight, Ikol"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I writing Ikol too Emo? because I kind of feel like I am and I don't want to fall too much into the fanfiction writer stereotype.


	5. Gods New and Old Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new Loki has entered her field of vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today chapter is a wonderful collab with the amazing SacredlyMythic on Deviantart.
> 
> I'm probably going to come back and edit this when I have time, but I figured you guys went a little too long without a chapter.

"Wow, you're quite the stubborn creature aren't you?" Storyteller stated as she looked down at the tracker on her wrist. It was a new day in her long search for her creator, the one whom had given up his life to make hers, the one she had been able to save when the deadly cataclysm had hit and Doom knows how many lives were lost. Not to mention, another day to find another Loki, and see if they were dangerous or not (in the long run at least, for what is Loki without the burning chaos and magic that resided in all of them). She was both worrying and hoping that the next Loki she came across was cool. It would be awesome to have more proof that Loki could be more than just the villain, but it also meant that it was one more person she would be worried about, especially with those that were involved in the game  
  
The area she was in greatly reminded her of the ancient lands the First Loki knew when he was but a lad. The far stretches of green, the soft misty mountains that added their own layers of mystery, all coming together to create an overall atmosphere of age and magic.  
  
And, it was then where she was standing, that she noticed her tracker had pointed to a lone figure naught 10 feet away from her, and individual who had seemed to have the same feeling that the land around her held, with an added air of chaos and mischief added into the mix.  
  
"Hello, Loki" he said to her with an air of familiarity and ease.  
  
"Hello, Loki" she replied back with a slight smirk on he pallid face.

"Well well well, what do we have here? I haven't seen such an interesting character since my apprentice. This is going to be fun, I can tell. You've never been here, have you?"

Storyteller looked at the man standing in front of her, analyzing the mysterious figure  
  
"Know i'm afraid not," she replied smirking. "Though I have to admit, I am definitely loving the view, both of them"  
  
"Well, clearly you have some good taste" the red head stated   
  
The stranger in front of her felt far older than any of the other Loki's she had met in her search. He felt older, he radiated it from his very core, despite his appearence (most likely around mid-30s).  
  
"So, what brings a cute little frostie like you here?" he questioned.  
  
"Eh, I'm doing a little investigation for our most powerful God Doom, I'm sure you've heard of him.  
  
"Ah. him." he looked a bit disappointed.  
  
"As his most loyal Loki, he has deemed me the best one to sort and categorize all the other little Lokis running around in a tricky frenzy" she playfully said  
  
"Hm, a tricky frenzy, that sounds wonderful!"  
  
"One would hope, but unfortunately some seem to be the gods of irrational bitch fits, and have insecurity levels to the point of wanting to be the 'only loki'"

"Sa, only Loki my ass. I was the first, and they'll never compare to me. I don't mean to sound like a cranky old man, but it's the younger Lokis who give us all a bad name. Honestly, do people think that I have nothing better to do then cause trouble? I'm too damn old for that honestly. And I hate to inform you, but I'm not one of Doomy's Lokis. I'm the first, and I am my own. The only one I really belong to is my wife, and she knows it a little too well."  


Storyteller reeled back in her mind, 'Wait, the first?'   
Well that certainly did make sense with the ancient air that pooled around the ginger trickster  
  
"Well, as the official youngest Loki, I'd say I might have to take offense to that, but I will admit that you're not wrong on ALL accounts" she replied with a knowing smirk. "and besides I have found quite a few surprisingly nice Lokis. I even found a cute little one that I decided to keep."  
  
She didn't know what to say about the last remark, Lokis of course naturally will disregard any form of authority, but in this situation, the last thing she needed was for a potential cool Loki to be tried for treason by God Doom.

He glares at her for a long moment, then his face splits into a huge grin like ice cracking, showing off, sharp, slightly curves and slightly bloodstained fangs. Almost like he read her mind, he answers her.  
  
"Old Doom can try whatever he likes. I am not his and I will not respond to anything he says. Tell him this, would you?I don't think any of you understand what the title 'First Loki' actually means. It means I am free. I belong to nobody. Not Doomy, not Odin, not anyone...but at the very least people thinking they own me is entertaining. It's so...satisfying when I shut them down. I am the child of Chaos. I am Keeper of Fire. I am Sky Traveller, Farbauti’s son. Begetter of Serpents, Father of Wolves."  
  
"I am Trickster, Father of Lies. I am sire of Half-Born Hel. I am Fire-Bringer, Architect and Destroyer of Worlds. I am Archangel, Fallen One, Opener of Forbidden Doors. I name you Dogstar, Lighter-than-Air…I am Wildfire, son of Laufey, God of Fire, Born-of-Flame, Burning eyes. I am the One of Venomous Tongue, Fire-in-Blood..."  
  
"I am Loki. The first Loki. The one who set up everything, the one who shaped the way your lives go. And don't let Doomy forget it."

Storyteller can't help herself as she stares at the chuckling trickster, and laughs alongside him. "Yes, I suppose so! You remind me of another Loki I've met, well besides the obvious reasons, but he does have the same attitude towards Doom!"   
  
"I understand, I am also a "free" Loki in that sense. My creator, he crafted me so I would no longer have to be ensnared by the nature he felt trapped in, the one that bound him to a cruel fate. So he took the chance to make me." she looked down with a somber smile.  
  
"So as we are fully introducing ourselves to each other, I am Loki the Storyteller, Loki IV,The God of Stories, Magic, and Arts, Apprentice to the Holy Eye, and above all, I am me, First, Last, and Always."

"Oh sweetling, you are so interesting. I havn't met someone like you in a very long time. And so different to me too. Doom is not my creator. I was born of Laufey and Farbauti, two Fire Jotun with bad luck but good hearts. Born of the flesh of the womb like any mere human, and other Jotun, almost any other living creature, suckled off my poor mother who was brave beyond all believing to be able to nurse me for more the a minute with the amount of biting I did. It is not an attitude towards Doom, it is the truth. I'd meet him myself and tell him that. There are no shackles on me." * He feels at his throat suddenly, and pulls out a thick black leather collar with a metal ring for a leash on it, and starts laughing. "Looks like I forgot to take this off. Well, maybe this one shackle, but it's only for my wife to use and nobody else. At least she uses it very, very well."

" Hahahaha, well I can definitely see that!"  
  
The two at that point began sitting on the grass together, to more comfortably continue their conversation.  
  
"Wait, what, Laufey and Farbauti actually liked you?  
Definitely a different tale to me, but then again most of my predecessors just had the most terrible parental issues. Hel, my creator's mother basically sold his soul to the devil, wretched hag that she was. "

"Yes, my parents loved me like nothing else. Then again, they are Jotun. We are rather well known for our parenting capabilities. But I'm assuming your aren't? A shame. Gods know that good parents go a very long way."

"well, I'm very happy for you, then. You have something not very many of us Lokis have."   
  
Storyteller reflected on the many parental relationships she had observed from so many others. The concept of having someone who actually love and cared for their offspring, she knew how much her creator had hoped and cared for her from his memories, but they had become lost in the swirling resentment, betrayal, and hurt that so many before her had felt. The quiet scheming and manipulation from Freya, the anger that Odin was so ready to throw in their direction, Laufey's great blue fist hurtling towards them as they were then knocked into a wall.  
  
She thought of little weirdworld loki, and the way they had displayed, not quite the same physical abuse, but the mementos of cold disapproval and apathy, of Hobo Loki and his constant hatred towards the woman who had abandoned him from birth, it just seemed to keep happening, and then there was this anomaly...  
  
"So what kind of trouble can a couple of Lokis get into around here, I do have a tiny bit of freetime till I have to give in my report?" She said with a smirk. 

"I could introduce you to my family. It's around the time I get home anyway, or Angrboda is gonna get out the whip tonight. She's not a fan of all the little adventures I go on, namely because we haven't seen each other in so long."

"From what, I've seen today, I get the feeling that's intentional just so you CAN get that whip" storyteller stated with a little suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.  
  
"What, No! Everyone always love our little adventures, just fun, mischief, and rainbows all around!"  
  
This should definitely be interesting, so far storyteller hadn't seen any other Angrboda's in any of the other areas of battleworld she had seen, and from what the First Loki's memories were telling her, she was quite the powerful witch, and it would be helpful to get a reading on her just in case. Plus, who doesn't love to hang out with gorgeous witches?  
  
"Well lead on ginger-Loki, a story awaits us!"  
  
"That is not what my Loki name is going to be, frostie"

"Firstly, my hair is crimson, not ginger. And second, most other Lokis I have met call me Phoenix, which is what my name means in Fire Jotun."  
  
Loki walked off into the forest. They came to an old, gnarled oak where a beautiful black shire horse was tied by the bridle. Loki stroked the stallion's muzzle before mounting, and then helping Story up as well. They arrived at Loki's place shortly before sundown. It's not as impressive as one would expect, but Loki didn't need his place to opulent, so long a he was with the ones he loved. He holds the door open for Story with a mocking bow and a jokingly sarcastic "my lady".   
  
The place is warm and well lit, despite the bitter cold, snow, and ice everywhere. Sitting on a pile of fur reading a thick book on what looks to be dragons was one of the most beautiful women Story ever laid eyes on. Angrboda, who as it turned out, was a Frost Giantess, looked up and smirked playfully at her husband.  
  
"Saved by a minute Loki. A shame. We had so much fun last time."  
  
"My ass looked like it had ink spilled on it."  
  
She got up and strode to them, wrapping her arms around Loki's neck and kissing him gently. She as graceful and dangerously beautiful as a snow leopard. Her eyes looked rather catish and were a bright gold, sparkling mischievously, and her skin was as pale and flawless as her beloved's. Her long, silken hair was the pale ice blue of a winter sky, and she had two curving, mahogany colored horns on her head, which started a little way over and behind her ears and arched, like dragon horns. She's very voluptuous, being large breasted and wide hipped, but still also looking very slim and lithe. She was, in short, exactly Loki's type of woman. No wonder the two where so close.  
  
"So, what exactly did you bring home this time?"

The woman was utterly gorgeous, she had to admit, probably even more beautiful than the Loki she had met from metropolis 51, a literal goddess of seduction. She was ethereal and elegant, with the look of power and danger underneath her very skin.  
  
"Nice to meet you, I'm Agent Storyteller, Apprentice to the Holy Eye. I've been told you are Angrboda, and might I say you are the lovliest thing I have ever laid eyes on.  
  
"Oh, love, did you bring us a playmate, for our little games," Angrboda teasingly said to her husband. The girl was very pretty. Tall, lithe build, curly black hair, clear pale skin, and a rather familiar set of bright green eyes. Ah, another Loki, she had known from the minute the girl had come into range, she knew that magic trace inside and out, you could change the form and the history of the Loki, but you can never truly change the magic.  
  
"Uhh, I'm afraid I'll have to decline, I might be a bit young for either of you..." Storyteller blushed slightly at the offer. She was no prude, she was a Loki after all, but when it came to other lokis it fell into a little too much into the incest category for her taste.  
  
"Is this your way of calling us old love?" the witch asked.

"She's only teasing. Her tastes run to me and nobody else." Loki said with a smirk.  
  
"You know very well you ruined me." she replied, mocking offense, and squishing her chest against Loki's  
  
"And you loved every minute of it. You wanted me so badly you didn't even bother taking off your damn dress on our wedding night,and besides, you know nobody else would put up with some of the shit up beg me for..." he trailed off, leaving Story to wonder what exactly the two of them got up too in the privacy of their bedroom.  
  
"I must say, she is one of the less weird things you've brought home. I'm both impressed and a little disappointed."  
"I'm questioning if I should be slightly offended by that statement, I happen to prize my weirdness," storyteller said with a smirk.   
  
"I noticed that you are also a frost giant, rather curious considering you are another Loki, though I did notice that the previous ones that came by also turned out the same, it is such an oddity" Angrboda said curiously.  
  
" yes, many of us do tend to be frost giants on Battleworld, an oddity I will admit, however I did come across one Loki who was part fire demon. They had an unfortunate habit of biting people to check if they're human or not, but other than that they're about as dangerous as a pug."  


"I think your influence is slipping a bit more then you though darling. I mean, nobody who thinks of you thinks Frost Giant, yet here they are." Angie mocked gently.   
  
"Yeah yeah yeah, some of the older Lokis are a bit more like me, I know. But I don't mind that much, to be completely honest. It just means there is less of a chance of you mistaking one of them for me."  
  
"Oh you bastard, you know I'd never-" She sighs while he laughs his ass off.

“Trust me I WISH some of the other Lokis were more like you. I love a good fight and snarky exchange, but I’m not a big fan of the getting stabbed, blasted, and overall injuries I’ve gained,” Teller complained running a hand through her hair at the memories.  
  
“Even if you ARE an old geezer!” she teased him, attempting to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling of one... particular attack she had suffered. Images of cold, feminine clothes wrenching at her clothing while she was unable to escape.

"Oh you little minx, I am NOT an old geezer. The title belongs (barely) to my darling brother in blood. And eh, what do you expect, it's in our nature to be untrusting. As the extremely annoying second Loki would say, never trust anyone."  
  
"I thought you liked Hawk."  
  
"I do, I do! But you gotta admit he's a pain in the ass from time to time, not matter how cool that blood magic of his is."  


"Ughhhh, why couldn't you just let me complain?" Teller mockingly whined, giving him a playful pout. She crossed her arms leaning against the wall, enjoying the heat of the room.  
  
"Listen to your elders then, little minx. We live in an unfair world and inevitably there will be the swindlers, liars, and tricksters who will take advantage of that, so the only thing you can do is to join in the fun or get knocked down in the process," the red-head stated to her, slightly tilting his head and expressing a knowing smile.  
  
"Storyteller, would you mind helping me with some supplies in the back room, I wish to get some ingredients for a meal," Boda laid a delicate hand on her shoulder and lightly tugging at her black leather swathed arm. She lead the girl down a short hallway to a storeroom filled with spices, grains, and assorted fruits and vegetables. She quickly drew her in and slammed the door shut.  
  
"I see that you've been through quite a bit young one, especially considering your short life so far in this young world. I trust that you've been speaking with the order?"  
  
Storyteller froze, unable to believe what she was hearing. It was one thing to know about the lifespan of herself and Doomgard, it was another entirely to know about the Order of Spiders.   
  
"And if you're wondering how I know, you should of course be aware of my own knowledge. While I am not much of a spider as you and the others are, but my vision never fails to show me the truth of this broken, mottled planet. And EVERYTHING that inhabits it."

 

**Author's Note:**

> If any fellow fans have some story ideas,suggestions, or criticisms I would love to hear them!


End file.
